


opyrig-ht No... 



UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 



Digitized by tine Internet Archive 
in 2011 witii funding from 
Tine Library of Congress 



http://www.arcliive.org/details/poemsOOIove 



Poems 



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Poems 



Robert Loveman 



Philadelphia 
J. B. Lippincott Company 

Mdcccxcvii 



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Copyright, 1896, 

BY 

Robert Loveman. 



Printed by J. B. Lippincott Company, Philadelphia, U.S.A. 



Table of Contents 



My Josephine, Page ii 

October, 12 

Dreams, 13 

Yon Star, 14 

In Venice, 15 

NoRTHPORT Town, 16 

In Naishapur, 17 

Upon a Crutch, 18 

A "La France" Rose, 19 

From Foreign Lands, 20 

Cleopatra, 21 

The Vigil, 22 

O Israel! 23 

From Far Japan, 24 

To-Day's Resolve, 25 

The Paralytic, 26 

The Wind, 27 

Purity, 28 

O Mother mine! 29 

Over the Way, 30 

Niagara, 31 

The Truant, 32 



Her Majesty, 33 
Trouble Town, 34 
To London Town, 35 
Sweet are the Names, 36 
A Sunrise, 37 
A Sunset, 37 
Poor Little Rose, 38 
The Freebooter, 40 
In Autumn, 40 

Verlaine, Villon, Baudelaire, 41 
Poetry, 42 

Where Dream-Boats drift, 42 
Words, 43 
The Angelus, 44 
The Muse, 44 
Rose is the Girl, 45 
A Dreamer, 46 
Up to the Realm, 48 
The Galaxy, 49 
Before the Storm, 49 
Quatrain, 50 
Quatrain, 50 
Bohemia, 51 ° 
Serenade, 53 
Charlotte Corday, 54 
To lift Men up, 55 
On the Fly-Leaf, 56 
A Comforter, 57 
This Winter Night, 58 
6 



Romeo and Juliet, 59 
Wherefore? 60 
The Rain, 61 V 

GOOD-BY, 62 

A Lyric, 63 

He is not Old, 65 

In Lighter Vein, 66 

The Play is o'er! 67 

In Olden Time, 68 

Some Words, 69 

Sonnet, 70 

A Diamond, 71 

Carcassonne, 71 

Into the Poet's Life, 72 

Not thou, 73 

When the Mood is on, 74 

In Shakespeare Land, 76 

Sole Empress, 77 

The Musician, 78 

A Stormy Night, 78 

A Prayer, 79 

Resolution, 79 

The Poet, 80 

A Derelict, 80 

Adown the Years, 81 

Looking Seaward, 83 

When my Dear Muse, 84 

Repentance, 85 

Her Soul is Pure, 86 

7 



So Dark, so Dear, 87 

To MY Mother, 88 

A Sunset, 88 

Faith, 89 

Inspiration, 89 

Somewhere, afar, 90 

The Quatrain, 90 

Emancipation, 91 

The Home-Coming, 91 

Man, 92 

Action, 92 

Quatrain, 93 

Darkness, 93 

The Sanctum Sanctorum, 94 

Her, 94 

If thou woui.dst read, 95 

The Poet, 95 

In the Yosemite, 96 

A Thought, 96 

The Mob, 97 

The Dawn, 97 

March, 98 

April, 98 

She is, 99 

Spring, 99 

Overheard, ico 

Night, 100 



TO 

MY SISTERS LINKA AND ANNE 



MY JOSEPHINE 

There was a France, there was a queen, 
There was another Josephine, 
Whose gentle love and tender art 
Subdued Napoleon's soldier heart. 

But she of France was ne'er, I ween. 
Fairer than thou, my Josephine; 
To storm thy heart I'll boldly plan, 
God ! if I were the Corsican ! 



OCTOBER 

In April mortal's eye hath seen 
The waking woods arrayed in green, 
While every birdling of the throng 
Essayed sweet syllables of song. 

And now October wooes the wold 
To dreams of crimson and of gold ; 
The laughing leaves, all out of breath. 
Are dancing down to dusty death. 



DREAMS 

Dreams, like children hand in hand, 
Wander through the shadow-land ; 
All the night they softly creep 
Down the corridors of sleep. 

Dreams, like children, laugh and weep 
In the mystic house of sleep ; 
Then hand in hand they run away, 
Frightened by the noisy day. 



13 



m 



YON STAR 

Yon star that glitters in the east 
Shone o'er Belshazzar's fated feast, 
Or Hghted up the evening sky 
For Esther and for Mordecai. 

Yon star looked down with sleepless lids 
Upon the rising pyramids, 
And shall illume the final gust 
That levels them to desert dust. 



14 



IN VENICE 

In Venice, on the Rialto, 

A merry mass of people go ; 

The siren city, Hke a bride, 

CHngs to the Adriatic's side ; 

By day, by night, one still may hear 

The soft song of the gondolier, 

Whose oar is strong for friend or foe, 

In Venice, on the Rialto. 

In Venice, on the Rialto, 
Homesick and lone, I weep with woe ; 
Homesick and lone, what is to me 
This marble city by the sea ? 
One vision all my bosom fills — 
O village in the Georgia hills. 
For thee my heart is bended low, 
In Venice, on the Rialto ! 



15 



NORTHPORT TOWN 

In Northport town the sun goes down 

Behind the hill, then all is still 

Within the peaceful village, where 

A benison is in the air. 

A pilgrim host of crickets yield 

An Angelus from every field ; 

And there the moon looks kindly down 

In mellow beams on Northport town. 

In Northport town — her eyes are brown, 
Her hair as soft as any down 
On any dove whose liquid note 
Of love is heard within the cote. 
Ah, this thy secret, village fair ! 
Ah, this thy charm, O village rare ! 
Heaven, rain thy sweetest odors down. 
For Lottie lives in Northport town. 



i6 



IN NAISHAPUR 

In Naishapur, when Omar wrote, 
No nightingale with lusty throat 
Carolled a clearer, sweeter note 
In Naishapur. 

He saw the yellow roses swoon 
Beneath the kisses of the June, 
And the star blossoms of the night 
Opened their petals to his sight. 

He sang of life, and death, and woe 
A thousand years or so ago ; 
The north winds o'er him rose-leaves throw 
In Naishapur. 



17 



UPON A CRUTCH 

Upon a crutch, her girhsh face 
Alight with love and tender grace, 
Laughing, she limps from place to place 
Upon a crutch. 

And you and I, who journey through 
A rose-leaf world of dawn and dew, 
We cry to heaven overmuch. 

We rail and frown at fate, while she, 
And many more in agony, 
Are brave and gentle, strong and true, 
Upon a crutch. 



i8 



A "LA FRANCE" ROSE 

Thou art the rarest regal rose 
The Summer in her glory shows, 
With golden honey on thy lips, 
Patrician to thy petals' tips. 

If thou hadst bloomed in Paris, when 
The Commune thronged with frenzied men, 
Some Robespierre plant by weeds begat 
Had slain thee, sweet aristocrat. 



19 



FROM FOREIGN LANDS 

From foreign lands the ships come in 
And greet the city's cheerful din, 
Laden with love or steeped in sin, 
From foreign lands. 

Yonder a giant cruiser bides 

And struggles with the surging tides ; 

While, ill from grief and penury, 

Through all the long night's mystery 
A lonely man looks out to sea 
And weeps for home and Italy, 
From foreign lands. 



CLEOPATRA 

Egypt and Pharaoh and the Nile, 
A torrid vast of desert land, 

Huge pyramids that grimly smile 
Across the shifting sand, 

Egypt and Pharaoh, ay ; but this — 
This Cleopatra wonders me. 

Who leaped with many a burning kiss 
Into the arms of Antony. 



THE VIGIL 

Lest some sweet thought all unaware 
Slip by me on the viewless air, 
Lest some dear dream that softly stole 
Past many a mighty poet-soul, 

I'll in the morning sunshine sit, 
And watch, and wait, and pray for it ; 
Naught else possess my mind or eye, 
Lest some sweet thought shp shyly by. 



O ISRAEL! 

O Israel ! thy glory gleamed 

Through ages long ago ; 
O Israel ! a David dreamed 
Within thy tents of snow ; 
Thy warriors wise, and brave, and good. 
Thy women queens of womanhood, 
A pillared cloud, and manna food, 
O Israel ! sweet Israel ! 

O Israel ! again I see 

Thy chariot in the sky ! 
The seed of Abraham shall be 
Through all eternity; 
Our fathers' faith, our fathers' God, 
The paths of peace wherein they trod, 
With love, with truth, thy soul be shod, 
O Israel ! sweet Israel ! 



23 



FROM FAR JAPAN 

From far Japan a pretty fan 
Hath come my lady's joy to plan, 
With rapture her sweet face to scan, 
From far Japan. 

To touch the velvet of her hand 
It journeyed over sea and land; 
To flutter 'neath her lustrous eyes 
Forsook the glow of Orient skies. 

And yet I know it must be so, 
The fan is happy. I would go. 
For her, forever to and fro 
From far Japan. 



24 



TO-DAY'S RESOLVE 

To-day no coward thought shall start 
Upon its journey from my heart, 
To-day no hasty word shall slip 
Over the threshold of my lip. 

To-day no selfish hope shall rest 
Within the region of my breast, 
To-day no wave of wrath shall roll 
Over the ocean of my soul. 

To-day I vow with sword and song 
To fight oppression and the wrong, 
To-day I dedicate my youth 
To duty and eternal truth. 



25 



THE PARALYTIC 

I. 

He reads of the deeds of mighty men, 
Of men in the brunt of battle, when, 
With livid lips and bated breath 
And loud huzzas, they dash to death. 

II. 

He reads of the deeds ; his shrunken hands 
Are tightly clinched ; he understands 
And feels, or why the storm 
That rages through his helpless form ? 



26 



THE WIND 

I. 
The wind came up from the balmy south, 

Came merrily dancing everywhere ; 
He kissed my lady's rose-bud mouth 

And slept in the coils of her shining hair. 

II. 
Then waked and away to the sobbing sea, 

Swifter than hungry hawk or fox, 
And angrily dashed, with demoniac glee, 

A giant ship against the rocks. 



27 



PURITY 

Whose mind is pure, he is the man 
For whom Almighty God doth plan ; 
For him in ecstasy the day 
Doth blush itself in bliss away. 

Whose heart is pure, for him the night 
Visions and dreams of rare delight ; 
For him, beyond the sunset bars, 
God sows the meadow sky with stars. 

Whose soul is pure, for him the sea. 
The mountain and its mystery ; 
For him, in all her shy retreats. 
The tender heart of Nature beats. 

Whose inmost thought, whose life is pure, 
His soul is destined to endure. 
To feel, to frame, to pray, to sing 
In gardens of God's blossoming. 

28 



O MOTHER MINE! 

O MOTHER mine ! in other days, 
Or ere I knew of blame or praise, 
Thine was the love to light my ways, 
O mother mine ! 

And now, when Time, with tender touch, 
Hath led thee gently down the years, 

mother mine ! with tears, with tears, 

1 pray my care of thee be such 
To pay in feeble part the debt, 
If I have caused thee one regret, 

O mother mine ! 



29 



OVER THE WAY 

I. 

Over the way, on a bending bough, 
A joyous bird is singing now, 
Into the heart of the summer day 
Trilling a merry roundelay. 

II. 
And over the way the blinds are drawn, 
A mother's hope and love is gone ; 
Without, the song, — within, the gloom ; 
A babe lies dead in the darkened room. 



30 



NIAGARA 

I. 

Some vast despair, some grief divine, 

Doth vigil keep 
Forever here ; before this shrine 

The waters weep. 

II. 

Methinks a God from some far sphere, 

In sportive part, 
In ages past wooed Nature here, 

And broke her heart. 



31 



THE TRUANT 

I. 

In the last twilight dim and gray 
From my fond clasp she slipped away, 
As sweet a thought as ever stole 
Into and out a poet's soul. 

II. 
And now, through all the weary night, 
Within my heart I burn a light. 
So my dear thought may enter when 
She Cometh weeping home again. 



32 



HER MAJESTY 



I. ■' ,'- 



The kingly Sun hath westward sped ; 

Now Cometh soon, 
By planet princes heralded, 

The maiden Moon. 

II. 
And as unto the throne of night 

She draweth near, 
Each courtier star, with paling light, 

Doth disappear. 



33 



TROUBLE TOWN 

As I came down from Trouble Town 
I met an angel on the way, 
A radiant angel on the way ; 
She looked into my aching eyes, — 
O angel good and true and wise ! — 
She whispered hope, — O vision rare ! — 
She bade me bravely burdens bear. 
She kissed away each fading frown 
As I came down from Trouble Town. 

I'm glad I've been to Trouble Town, 
Else might I ne'er have known or seen. 
Oh, hast thou never known or seen, 
When struggling back to life and hope, 
The vision on some sunny slope. 
With eager arms and eyes of light, 
While once again the earth was bright ? 
God, it is good that, king or clown, 
We all must go to Trouble Town. 

34 



TO LONDON TOWN 

To London town Will Shakespeare went, 
Ambitious, eager, and intent, 
To one vast end his being bent, 

To London town. 

He hugged his precious manuscript 
Close to his heart, his fancy tripped 
All feather-footed through the day. 

And she — poor, lone Ann Hathaway — 
Taught Judith, Hamnet, how to pray 
For him — her lord, away, away 

To London town. 



35 



SWEET ARE THE NAMES 

Sweet are the names and Shakespeare's women, they 

Like music melt upon the heart and ear ; 

First Juliet comes, then Beatrice draws near, 

Perdita pure, and Lucrece chaste as day. 

Dear Desdemona, she who loved the Moor, 

There, poor Ophelia, and Cordelia here. 

Whose voice was ever soft and low to Lear ; 

Rare Rosalind, the fair who reigned o'er 

Orlando's soul in Arden, Portia wise, 

And Jessica, who with an unthrift love 

Ran far as Belmont ; look your last now, eyes, 

On maid Miranda, gentle as a dove. 

These names and women out of Shakespeare's art. 

Like sweetest music, sway the human heart. 



36 



A SUNRISE 

Up from the under wonder-world, 
A thousand battles won, 

The east hath every flag unfurled : 
Good-morning, Signor Sun ! 



A SUNSET 

A CRIMSON, gray, and gold 
Enchantment to the eye ; 

Some artist saint spilled all his paint 
Adown the western sky. 



37 



i:: 



POOR LITTLE ROSE 

I know you, rose ; I see you there, 
Bathed in the balmy April air ; 
I've watched the weary winter through, 
And seen the sun smile down on you, 
Seen day by day your leaves grow green, 
And baby buds spring up between ; 
So now small wonder that I feel 
Thy charm, my mellow Marechal Niel. 
I know you, rose ; your heart is won 
By your fond love, the summer sun; 
You sigh for him the long night through, 
At morn your cheek is wet with dew, 
With tears of dew, sweet loyal rose. 
For oh, the night so slowly goes ! 
38 



But when your lover sails the sky, 

Ah, then again your cheek is dry. 

And so I know your soul is won 

By your fond love, the summer sun ; 

And yet, poor rose, ere many days, 

Beneath his ardent burning rays, 

E'en while he lightens earth and sky, 

Thou then, sad queen, must drooping die, 

And then he'll amorous glances throw 

Upon some jaunty Jacqueminot, 

And her torn heart will also feel 

All thou hast known, my Marechal Niel — 

All of thy joys, all of thy woes, 

Poor little rose, — poor little rose. 



39 



THE FREEBOOTER 

Drunken with dew, a bandit bee 
Across my flower-garden goes ; 

The noisy knave, what recketh he 
To stab a beetle, rob a rose ? 



IN AUTUMN 

The shepherd winds are driving 
Along the ways on high 

A merry flock of cloudland sheep 
To meadows in the sky. 



40 



VERLAINE, VILLON, BAUDELAIRE 

Verlaine, Villon, Baudelaire, 
Delicacy and despair, 
Perfume, poison, myrrh, and rue, 
Bitter-sweet and honey-dew. 
Lurid skies and absinthe air, 
Verlaine, Villon, Baudelaire. 

Verlaine, Villon, Baudelaire, 
Chansonnette and rondeau rare. 
Ballade, quatrain, villanelle, 
Lovingly they wrought and well ; 
A fig for grief and carking care, 
Verlaine, Villon, Baudelaire. 

Verlaine, Villon, Baudelaire, — 
The pity of it, — everywhere 
About the world that men should be 
Steeped to the eyes in poverty. 
Then die like moths in glory's glare, 
Verlaine, Villon, Baudelaire. 
41 



POETRY 

O ART of arts ! O gift of gifts ! 

Sublimest of sublime ! 
To string the beaded thoughts into 

A rosary of rhyme. 



WHERE DREAM-BOATS DRIFT 

Over the silver sea of sleep 

The dream-boats drift away, away, 

Adown the dawn they softly creep 
Into the harbor of the day. 



42 



WORDS 

Words, words, words 
That bubble up from baby lips. 
Or falter trembling forth when age 
Upon the homeward journey slips 
And stumbles ; words that rise 
In prayer like incense to the skies, 
Words that light with love the page. 
Words, words, words. 

Words, words, words 
That poets borrow from the birds. 
Willing words that have been caught 
To the bosom of a thought ; 
Words of honey, words of gall, 
Words that hold the heart in thrall. 
Words sublime that chime and rhyme. 
Words, words, words. 



43 



THE ANGELUS 

This scene I see, this thought I feel, 
Ah, distant days are glowing there. 

When Millet's mother bade him kneel 
And lisp in love his evening prayer. 



THE MUSE 

No sooner doth one song depart, 
In fancy's realm to soar, 

Another stands outside my heart 
And taps upon the door. 



44 



ROSE IS THE GIRL 

Rose is the girl ; she bids me write 
A rhyme for her, and I am quite 
At loss for language adequate. 
Rose is the girl. 

She is my life, my love, my fate, 
To her my dreams are dedicate, 
And when the moon shall shine to-night 

I'll hie me to my lady's bower 
And swear allegiance by the hour. 
O Venus, Cupid, give me power ! 
Rose is the girl. 



45 



A DREAMER 

He is a dreamer, let him pass, 
He reads the writing in the grass ; 
His seeing soul in rapture goes 
Beyond the beauty of the rose. 
He is a dreamer, and doth know 
To sound the farthest depth of woe ; 
His days are calm, majestic, free ; 
He is a dreamer, let him be. 

He is a dreamer ; all the day 
Blest visions throng him on his way. 
Past the far sunset and the light. 
Beyond the darkness and the night. 
He is a dreamer — God ! to be 
Apostle of Infinity, 
And mirror truth's translucent gleam; 
He is a dreamer, let him dream. 



He is a dreamer ; for all time 
His mind is married unto rhyme, 
Light that ne'er was on land or sea 
Hath blushed to him in poetry. 
He is a dreamer, and hath caught 
Close to his heart a hope, a thought, — 
A hope of immortality ; 
He is a dreamer, let him be. 

He is a dreamer ; lo ! with thee 
His soul doth weep in sympathy ; 
He is a dreamer, and doth long 
To glad the world with happy song. 
He is a dreamer — in a breath 
He dreams of love, and life, and death. 
Oh, man ! oh, woman ! lad and lass. 
He is a dreamer, let him pass. 



47 



UP TO THE REALM 

Up to the realm where she doth reign, 
Unto its utmost holy height, 

Through all the muse's dear domain, 
The poet's path is one of light. 

But if the way were bleak and long, 
And from the night no friendly spark, 

To see her face — O child of song ! — 
Who would not leap into the dark ? 



48 



THE GALAXY 

The Night is soon to wed the Day, 

And for the virgin pale 
Hath wrought a multitude of stars 

Into a bridal veil. 



BEFORE THE STORM 

The old oak wakes from peaceful sleep, 
Roused by the earth's alarms, 

And frightened baby breezes leap 
Into his outstretched arms. 



49 



QUATRAIN 

The night is a moonlit garden, 
The night is a starry feast, 

And the white-rose Sun, at dawning, 
Unfolds his petals in the east. 



QUATRAIN 

God made the Night, and, marvelling how 
That she might be most ravishingly fair, 

He orbed the moon upon her beauteous brow. 
And meshed a myriad stars within her hair. 



50 



BOHEMIA 

Bohemia is the land for me ; 

Its mountains tower heaven high, 
Its singing rivers seek the sea, 

Its cloud-craft sail the ocean sky ; 
Out of the close embrace of Night, 

Burning with blushes, comes the Dawn ; 
Bohemia hath the rarer light, — 

The light that leads the poet on. 

Bohemia is the land for me ; 

There Shakespeare, Milton, Byron, Keats 
Plucked from its heart the mystery. 

Walked in its ways and rapt retreats ; 
It is a land whose splendors smite 

When sun and moon and stars are gone. 
It is the land where shines the light, — 

The light that leads the poet on. 
51 



Bohemia is the land for me ; 

It is the purple land of dreams, 
Where one may quaff the nectary 

Of noble thoughts and lofty themes ; 
Though Sorrow hath a cheek of white 

And Hunger's face be pinched and wan, 
Dear God ! the more we love the light, — 

The Hght that leads the poet on. 

Bohemia is the land for me ; 

It is the rosy realm of rhyme, 
Of music, art, and ecstasy. 

It is the clime of deeds sublime ; 
And o'er it all by day and night, 

And past the portals of the dawn. 
The gleaming, beaming, streaming light 

Shall ever lead the poet on. 



52 



SERENADE 

Good-night, the day has slipped to sleep ; 

Good-night, my love, good-night ; 
The stars are tears the heavens weep ; 

Good-night, my love, good-night. 
Sweetness and beauty, goodness, grace, 
And happiness are in thy face ; 
Where thou art hallowed is the place ; 

Good-night, my love, good-night. 

Good-night, once more upon my breast. 

Good-night, my love, good-night; 
My heart the haven, stay and rest ; 
Good-night, my love, good-night. 
Sweetheart, my own, or ere I go, 
Once more,— dear love, I love thee so, 
Once more — O ecstasy of woe ! 
Good-night, my love, good-night. 



53 



CHARLOTTE CORDAY 

The canvas speaks ; again we see 
Marat in death's dark agony ; 
Again the throng whose weeping eyes 
Saw thy pure spirit seek the skies. 

The canvas speaks ; behind the bars, 
Immortal as the steadfast stars, 
Thy soul still shines with holy light, 
Kindled in Revolution's night. 

The canvas speaks ; away ! away ! 
In cloisters hooded friars pray 
Repose to one who drew the lance 
From out the bleeding breast of France. 

The canvas weeps ; adieu ! adieu ! 
Forever live the brave and true ; 
Music and marble, brush and rhyme. 
Treasure thy memory for all time. 

54 



TO LIFT MEN UP 

To lift men up, oh, this mine aim, — 
Away with pomp and pride and fame, — 
Through light and darkness, fire and flame, 
To lift men up. 

Dear God ! for me no crown or state, 
No love alone for low or great, 
But for one vast humanity, 

With hearts as restless as the sea, 
And souls serene through suffering ; 
For them, for these, still let me sing. 
To lift men up. 



55 



ON THE FLY-LEAF 

Here find we peace and tumult, hope, despair, 
Now feel we winter's wind, now Arden's air ; 
There vice its curse a Caliban doth show 
Next maid Miranda, chaste as virgin snow ; 
This page a scene of cruel carnage brings. 
And this, a bridal bed — that couch, a king's ; 
Cordelia's eye holds pity's melting tear 
E'en while the howling tempest echoes Lear. 
O mighty soul ! who in one fleeting breath 
Could picture hell and heaven, hfe and death, 
Base-born the slave who can thy precepts quote 
And thank not God a Shakespeare lived and wrote. 



56 



A COMFORTER 

Vexed with the trials of a dismal day, 
I sat me down to rail at God and man, 

To pour into a bitter venomed lay- 
All vile anathema, a curse, a ban ; 

Hope seemed to stumble on her weary way. 
And a dark purpose Hke a river ran 

Through my sad soul. But how, oh, friend, I pray, 
Can one long murmur at the ordained plan, 

When to the haven of his arms there slips 
A baby daughter robed in snowy white. 

Who, with love's prattle on her infant lips. 

Has come to kiss and bid me sweet good-night, 

And whispers, cuddling close her precious head, 

" I'm sleepy, papa ; come, put me to bed" ? 



57 



THIS WINTER NIGHT 

This winter night, against the pane, 
I hear the beating of the rain ; 
The mad wind shrieks a harsh refrain 
This winter night. 

Within my room, in warmth and light, 
The friendly fire blazes bright. 
And — God ! out in the bitter cold 

How many mortals wander on, 
With love and hope and gladness gone, 
Poor human sheep outside the fold. 
This winter night ! 



58 



ROMEO AND JULIET 

I, 

O Moon, didst thou see, that night, sweet night, 
'Neath thy mellow beams and the stars aglow, 

Juliet, with eyes of love and light. 
Close in the arms of Romeo ? 

II. 
And, Moon, hast thou seen the night, sad night, 

When Verona ran with bated breath, 
And wept at the cruel, piteous sight 

Of the ill-starred pair in the arms of death ? 



59 



WHEREFORE? 

When no sweet thoughts will come to thee 

And harbor in thy heart, 
When no dear dreams of ecstasy 

Will woo thy lips apart ; 

When no rose-rhyme shall bloom for thee 

In gardens God doth give, 
Though thine the all of land and sea, 

Wherefore, O poet, live ? 



60 



THE RAIN 

O THE rain, the summer rain, 
Kissing all the growing grain, 
And the sudden little showers 
Giving fragrance to the flowers ! 
Every streamlet runs along 
With a sweeter, clearer song, 
To the river, then the main. 
O the rain, the rain, the rain ! 

O the rain, the winter rain, 
Beating through the broken pane, 
Where with weary heart and brain 
Many weep in vain, in vain ! 
Poor, so poor that hope is dead, 
And the children cry for bread. 
God, the sorrow ! God, the strain ! 
O the rain, the rain, the rain ! 



6i 



GOOD-BY 

We say at noon and in the night, 
Good-by, good-by, good-by ; 

Though tears at parting blind the sight, 
Good-by, good-by, good-by. 

Over the vasty deep we go 

Unto a land afar, and lo ! 

One little word to tell the woe, 
Good-by, good-by, good-by. 

To father, mother, husband, wife, 

Good-by, good-by, good-by ; 
Love is the guiding star of life, 
Good-by, good-by, good-by. 
After the death let come what may, 
Our deeds shall live for aye and aye. 
And consecrate our peaceful clay, 
Good-by, good-by, good-by, 



62 



A LYRIC 

A LYRIC, love, for you, my love, 
A lyric ; words that weep 
And thoughts that pray shall creep 
Into my song and kneel to thee. 
For you, my love, a lyric. 

A lyric, love, for you, my love, 
A lyric ; oh, sweetly slain am I ; 
One dagger glance from thy dark eye 
Hath done the deed — I swoon, I die. 
For you, my love, a lyric. 

A lyric, love, for you, my love, 
A lyric ; all the south 
Hath not the honey of thy mouth, 
The beauty of thy bosom, love. 
For you, my love, a lyric, 
63 



A lyric, love, for you, my love, 
A lyric ; soul of mine, 
Never had mortal sweeter shrine 
Than where I worship, while I sing 
For you, my love, a lyric. 



64 



HE IS NOT OLD 

He is not old whose eyes are bright, 
Whose bosom throbs, whose heart is Hght ; 
Though fourscore be his years enrolled, 
If yet he loves, he is not old. 
O'er him whose inmost thought is true 
The sky of winter beameth blue ; 
For if a man have heart of gold. 
Though white his hair, he is not old. 

Age only rests upon the throng 
Who live in strife, who cherish wrong ; 
For oh, 'tis vice that makes us cold. 
And then, alas ! we soon grow old. 
So, friend, and thou wouldst ever be 
A man of mirth, not misery. 
Be just and gentle, brave and bold. 
And then thou never need'st be old. 



65 



IN LIGHTER VEIN 

In lighter vein, one might indite 
To Preciosa something trite, 
Liken her eyes to stars of night, 
In lighter vein. 

In lighter vein ; but softly stay : 

When one doth writhe in grievous pain, 

With fevered brow and burning brain, 

When shadows chase the sun away, 
And every infant hope is slain, 
How can one write, I pray, I pray, 
In lighter vein ? 



66 



THE PLAY IS O'ER! 

The play is o'er ! my lady wept 
The last act through ; Othello crept 
To Desdemona's feet and died. 
O maddened Moor — ill-fated bride, 
The play is o'er ! 

Homeward we go, while music sweet 
Still haunts our ears ; across the street 
Two shots ring out — the tramp of feet. 

Then hastily they bear away 
On one rude couch the lifeless clay. 
A jealous fool — his mistress gay, 
The play is o'er ! 



67 



IN OLDEN TIME 

In olden time a bonny maid, 
A cavalier and his cockade, 
A bit of sunshine and of shade 
In olden time. 

He wooed the winsome woman till 
She yielded to his sovereign will, 
And to the farthest gates of death 

Love, love was their sweet shibboleth ; 
And happiness and joy untold 
Blossomed within their hearts of gold 
In olden time. 



68 



SOME WORDS 

Some words there be of infamy, 
And others dearer than delight ; 

Some whiter than a June noonday, 
Some blacker than a starless night ; 

Some — but for me can never be 
Lute notes of sweeter ecstasy 
Than those fond words of love that drip 
Like honey from my lady's lip. 



69 



SONNET 

Drunk with delight, the rose I gave her dreams 

Upon the billowed bosom of my love ; 

It falls and rises with the waves thereof, 

And hath forgot the Sun-God's ardent beams ; 

A softer summer now doth compass it, 

At anchor in the harbor of her heart. 

No more for thee, O rose ! the night starlit, 

Dawn's magic, or the noontide's golden art, 

But rarer rapture shall these joys eclipse 

If she absolve thee once with her sweet lips. 

Oh, that thy blissful destiny were mine, 

To drink the heavy honey of her breath. 
Feel for one day her touch, her clasp divine, 

Sink into sleep and swoon to glorious death ! 



70 



A DIAMOND 

Look how it sparkles, see it greet 
With laughing light the ambient air ; 

One little drop of sunshine sweet 
Held in eternal bondage there. 



CARCASSONNE 

The land of love, the land of light, 
The Canaan never cursed with care. 

Lies just beyond — so poets write — 
The sunless sea of dark despair. 



71 



INTO THE POET'S LIFE 

Into the poet's life one day 

A sorrow came in ashen gray, 

Into his life a sorrow came 

And bowed his head with grief and shame. 

It dimmed the lustre of his eye 

And stole the sunlight from the sky, 

Trampled the tender shoots of truth 

And sacked the temple of his youth. 

Out of the poet's soul one day 
A song of courage sped away, 
A song of comfort, hope, and cheer, 
Born of a doubt, a sob, a tear, — 
Out of his soul, on eagle wing. 
O poet rare ! thy suffering, 
As well as joy, shall hght for thee 
The ways to immortality. 



72 



NOT THOU 

God, let me write a rhyme so pure 
That men who read will pray, — 

A poem pure that will endure 
Unto the latest day ! 

This my heart's hope, but on a scroll 

Unfolded to my sight 
I read, " Not thou, whose secret soul 

Is damned and black as night !" 



73 



WHEN THE MOOD IS ON 

When the mood is on, oh, the cunning then, 
And the rapture rare of the poet's pen ! 
The singing soul soars away, away, 
And the happy heart hath hohday. 
The sky is clear, all the clouds are gone. 
When the mood is on, when the mood is on. 

When the mood is on, from the earth to sky, 
In a frenzy fine rolls the poet's eye ; 
He hath no sorrow, he hath no care, 
A spirit of joy is everywhere ; 
'Tis a golden day with a diamond dawn. 
When the mood is on, when the mood is on. 
74 



When the mood is on, to the western Ind 

No jewel fair as Rosalind, 

And all learn lessons true and good 

From the rocks and trees of the Arden wood ; 

'Tis an age of beauty, brain, and brawn. 

When the mood is on, when the mood is on. 

But soft, there are faces pinched and drawn 
And hearts that bleed when the mood is on ; 
There are those who weep beside their dead, 
There are hungry hosts who cry for bread 
Through the long, long night and, alas ! the dawn, 
When the mood is on, when the mood is on. 



75 



IN SHAKESPEARE LAND 

In Shakespeare Land are sylvan scenes, 
Hills heaven high and broad demesnes, 
Princes, courtiers, kings, and queens 
In Shakespeare Land. 

Tybalt is there and Romeo ; 
" Consort us," quoth Mercutio ; 
" Have at the villain" so-and-so. 

Now, nurse, to gentle Juliet go 
And bid her weep and fast and pray ; 
Woe, woe betide this fatal day 
In Shakespeare Land ! 



76 



SOLE EMPRESS 

A THOUSAND dreams of duty haunt my heart, 
A thousand passions beat about my brain, 

An ocean-tide of fragrant fancies start 
And burn my being with exquisite pain. 

These and a million more besieging things 
Seek to invade my bosom's citadel, 

Where she — my lady— reigns supreme and sings. 
Her smile my heaven and her frown my hell. 



77 



THE MUSICIAN 

The earth, the sky, the land and sea 
For him make sweetest melody ; 
He hears the faintest flowing note 
That ripples from the linnet's throat. 



A STORMY NIGHT 

All night the waves of darkness roar 
And break against a starless shore, 
All night — then, weary, spent, and wan. 
They die upon the dikes of dawn. 



78 



A PRAYER 

Not faith and hope and charity 
Alone secure the soul's success ; 

O ye immortal Gods, to me 

Give fearlessness, give fearlessness ! 



RESOLUTION 

O God, for strength to turn 
Our souls to ventures vast ! 

And, pressing on, behind us burn 
The bridges of the past. 



79 



THE POET 

Most mighty of magicians he 
Who, with some subtle sorcery, 
Can kiss a cold, forbidding truth 
To beauty and immortal youth. 



A DERELICT 

An ocean outcast, baffled, blown 
By every wind and wave ; 

In death not even poor " Unknown" 
Above his lonely grave. 



80 



ADOWN THE YEARS 

Perhaps I may- 
Have gone amiss, 

To steal one day 
From her a kiss ; 

But heaven knows 
I'd suffer pain 

And direst woes 
To kiss again, 

'Twas long ago, 

And yet I vow 
It thrilled me so 

It seems as now, 
And through the mist 

Of many years 
The girl I kissed 

I see in tears. 
8i 



That she should cry 

And rail at fate 
Was more than I 

Dare contemplate ; 
So on that day, 

Adown the years, 
I kissed away 

Her pretty fears. 

Sing, poet, sing 

Of that you will, 
The sweetest thing 

Is love's first thrill ; 
And, of all joys. 

The height of bliss 
Is but a boy's 

First loving- kiss. 



82 



LOOKING SEAWARD 

I. 

Thy breasted billows rise and fall, 

O breathing sea ! 
Some joy doth hold thy soul in thrall 

Of ecstasy, 

II. 

And so, my love, my life, my sweet, 

Whate'er may be. 
Thus should thy billowed bosom beat 

At thought of me. 



83 



WHEN MY DEAR MUSE 

I. 

When my dear Muse doth come and wind 

Her arms about me, and doth kiss 
My parched soul and heart and mind, 
'Tis bhss, 'tis bHss. 

II. 
But when, alas ! she cometh not, 

O damned day ! O frowning fate ! 
Pity, I pray, for then my lot 
Is desolate. 



84 



REPENTANCE 



When Moses smote, at God's command, 
The frowning rock on Horeb's height, 

Lo ! following the wondrous wand, 
A stream of crystal water bright. 

II. 

Upon our hardened hearts of stone 
Our better angels, through the years, 

Strike until from the soul is thrown 
A fountain of repentant tears. 



85 



HER SOUL IS PURE 

Her soul is pure and sweet and white, 
All good is garnered there ; 

If I might once peep in and write, 
What poem half so fair ? 

When next across my path she trips. 
This woman wondrous wise, 

I'll kiss a lyric from her lips, 
An epic from her eyes. 



86 



so DARK, SO DEAR 

Death is so dark to youth, 
So cruel, dank, and drear ; 

Ambition, love, and truth 
All buried in the bier. 

Death is so dear to age, 

So sweet the peace and rest ; 

Nor summer's heat nor winter's rage, 
Hands folded o'er the breast. 



87 



TO MY MOTHER 

Many the weary miles between, 

But distance yields to love like thine. 

Blest miracle ! though all unseen, 

Closely thy cheek is pressed to mine. 



A SUNSET 

The Sun, departing, kissed the summer Sky, 
Then bent an instant o'er her beating breast ; 

She lifts to him a timid, tear-stained eye. 
And lo ! her blushes crimson all the west. 



FAITH 

Oceans nor mountains do I need 
To thunder wisdom down to me ; 

The drop of dew, the living seed, 
All whisper of Infinity. 



INSPIRATION 

Joy now hath reached her utmost goal 
And sunrise bursts upon the soul 
When some immortal thought or plan 
Runs riot in the mind of man. 



SOMEWHERE, AFAR 

Somewhere, afar, dear God, we know 
The mountain-height of glory gleams, 

For some fame's fragrant breezes blow 
Across the meadow-land of dreams. 



THE QUATRAIN 

Only four scanty lines are there, 
Yet might a master-mind rehearse 

All heaven's hope and hell's despair 
Within one little, trembling verse. 



90 



EMANCIPATION 

Grandeur and truth, infinite grace, 
And love shine from his kingly face ; 
Now doth man's visage pure and fair 
Reflect God's imaged glory there. 



THE HOME-COMING 

Through all the day the witching words 

Elude the poet's art, 
Till eve ; then winged thoughts, like birds, 

Fly homeward to his heart. 



91 



MAN 

The vilest creature space doth span 
Is weak, despised, dishonored man ; 
The crown of God's immortal plan, 
Noble and lofty, fearless man. 



ACTION 

I KNOW not how some men can lie 
In ease and inactivity. 
When Nature's children all uplift 
Their voices in a soner of thrift. 



92 



QUATRAIN 

Weak from its war with giant strife, 
A struggling truth lay down to die ; 

A poet loved it back to life 
And gave it immortality. 



DARKNESS 

Stumbling along the ways through space, 

Led by the wanton wind. 
No hght illumes his furrowed face, — 

The old man Earth is blind ! 



93 



THE SANCTUM SANCTORUM 

Guard well the temple of the mind, 
Its portals keep with care ; 

No pilgrim thought impure, unkind, 
Should ever enter there. 



HER 

Hair like to melted midnight. 

And her eyes, — O God, her eyes ! 

The lips of language ne'er have loosed 
Words worthy their sweet witcheries. 



94 



IF THOU WOULDST READ 

If thou wouldst read his verse aright, 
Deem it a cry from out the night ; 
No idle theme is pencilled there, 
It is his soul's immortal prayer. 



THE POET 

Through the sweet summer of his years, 
Wherever blossom hopes and fears. 
He doth pursue his magic art 
And hives the honey in his heart. 



95 



IN THE YOSEMITE 

The centuries have builded here, 
O'er many a rugged rod 

Of peak and cave, a temple where 
Nature might worship God. 



A THOUGHT 

My kingdom for a thought ! 
One deathless thought, one thought to reach 
The utmost bounds of human speech ; 

My kingdom for a thought ! 



96 



THE MOB 

A SURGING sea of maddened men, 
Curses and cries, that rise and fall ; 

The stillness of the grave — and then 
Kins Death will hold hig-h carnival. 



THE DAWN 

Upon his tranquil, joyous face 
Sorrow hath left no dark'ning trace, 
And yet we know the blessed light 
Followed a struggle in the night. 



97 



MARCH 

Whither doth now this fellow flee 

With outstretched arms at such mad pace ? 

Can the young rascal thinking be 
To catch a glimpse of April's face ? 



APRIL 

Maiden, thy cheeks with tears are wet, 
And ruefully thine eyebrows arch ; 

Is't as they say, thou thinkest yet 
Of that inconstant madcap March ? 



98 



SHE IS 

Gentle and tender, sweet and true, 
Calm as a summer sky of blue, 
And in the depths of her dark eyes 
Passion, the tiger, couchant Hes. 



SPRING 

A WHISPER on the heath I hear. 

And blossoms deck the waking wood ; 

Ah ! surely now the virgin year 
Is in her blushing maidenhood. 



99 



OVERHEARD 

I LINGERED listening 'neath the tree, 
The summer sky above me, 

And when a sunbeam kissed a leaf, 
It whispered low, " I love thee." 



NIGHT 

The Empress Night hath jewels rare 
Of diamond stars within her hair. 
And on her beauteous bosom soon 
She'll wear the silver crescent moon. 

THE END. 



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